#bath music

[motion90affect]

Chill Hop Ambient Music | Lofi Instrumental Beat For Studying & Chillin'...

[punkerplusone]

Acid Bath

[academic-vampire]

𝔐𝔶 𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔥𝔬𝔪𝔢, 𝔞𝔰 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲’𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢. 🪟

[frogseasons]

category 5 yurricane incoming

[laestoica]

Sky Ferreira by Gaspar Noé

[undergroundrockpress]

The Bath Festival of Blues and Progressive Music, 27 June, 1970. Photos : Paul Popper / Malcolm Cleary.

[absolutelybatty]

Man, this album is so good! (starts beating head against the nearest wall)

[burninleather]

FUCKIBG ACID BATH RÉUNION BEFORE GTA 6

This is NOT A JOKE OR PRANK WHAT THE FUCK

[newgodpho]

[motion90affect]

Ambient Instrumental | "Jungle Sun" - Meditation Music, Yoga Music, Stud...

[rebelsouljah]

[o3o-lapd-o3o]

Can you imagine post-Odyssey life for Telemachus though?

You're just sitting in your palace having lunch, trying to ignore your very much in love parents who have absolutely no shame whatsoever; Athena, who's both your friend and your dad's kind-of-friend-former-mentor-turned-sort-of-mother, is just chilling; Hermes, who's your dad's great grandfather, is laughing as he causes some kind of chaos and you think might also be giving you drugs (?); Ares, who for some reason has some weird fanboy puppy crush on your dad, is playing with your dog as if that's completely normal, and of course Aphrodite is with him because why not???

You decide that maybe you'd just take a walk along the harbour - for some reason the ocean has been unnaturally calm ever since your dad came home.

yesssssss! i love love love this! (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡

i love to think that after everything, ithaca just becomes the hotspot for the gods & goddesses to hang out. telemchaus keeps collecting them as friends like pokemon. odysseus is very wary at first of course, but calms once he realises they aren't there to cause any harm to his famiy or island. he deffo makes sure to tell hermes to stop trying to slip telemachus some moly though dhdhdhd

and yes i would like to think poseidon also eventually makes a physical appearance, curious as to why all his family keep taking holidays trips/visits to the island to hang out with odysseus and his family

(i was also actually thinking of eventually heading in this direction in my silly "friends in higher places" au, that i keep yapping about in my posts dhdhdhd) (really gotta write out the rest of the dinner scene first though)

[letsplaythermalnuclearwar]

I thinks it's funny how after the Thunder Saga we were all like "wow Ody's gone full monster rawr rawr rawr now lol" but like. he wasn't done, actually

[evergreen-endo]

WE PLAY THE SAME KEYS AT DIFFERENT TIMES — r. kaji.

cw: 18+ mdni, f! reader, car sex, spit. wc: 0.8k a/n: unedited. thought about him on my drive home. enjoy. 

You and Kaji can’t ever just listen to music in the car together.

He really never intended for it to be like this at first— but once it happened the first time, it’s all he could think of the next time he got in his car. It’s the same every time; inviting you for a ride to listen to a tune that’s stuck in his head, one he claims he can’t get rid of until he hears it again. But with him, it can never just be one song. There are too many that make him think of you these days, despite his best efforts to press skip on those in particular. 

He drives around until night falls, and you’ve both shared everything you’ve had on repeat this week. As he pulls onto the highway, the low vibration of his car picking up speed thrums against your thighs, much like the guitar blaring through his speakers. The low light of the city falls on his hands as he steers with practiced motion, heel of his palm flat against the leather. Warm yellow light trails along the veins on his arms, dragging your gaze wherever it touches. It highlights the rim of his features for a split second, long enough to see the way he side eyes you.

He lets out a huff, leaning back against the headrest to hide in the dark, though it’s futile. As he whirrs past the overheads, the light guides your gaze to his thighs, spread lazily even with one foot on the gas, and up, up, up to…oh. It’s only a second that you see it before light rushes past, and you wait on the next street light to illuminate him. It takes its time, stretching slowly over the same path, fingertips to forearms to biceps. A flit of your eyes down, and the car leers onto the exit ramp, light changing its course and missing the bulge of his cock entirely. 

The both of you huff for different reasons, you in disappointment, and him in relief. Not that you can hear each other over the music, anyway.

You spend the rest of the ride bopping your head along and picking up your phone to add songs you like to your own playlist. He’s grateful that there aren’t as many street lamps on the route to your place, so you miss the poorly hidden smirk that plays on his lips. 

Pulling into your driveway, he thumbs at his wheel to turn the music down just as that one song comes on. The one you fucked to the first time he did this; the reason he keeps inviting you to do this. He pauses, sighing, and turns it back up again. You tense, thighs crossing as you hear the click of his seatbelt and squeak of the leather as he reaches over to click yours, too.

Kaji’s breath always comes out ragged— grits his teeth and hisses through them even as his chest heaves for more oxygen. He’s got you bouncing on his cock in his backseat, guiding you to some extent, rough grip on your hips because he really can’t find it in himself to be gentle. Not when you move so perfectly you hit every goddamn beat. 

You’re the perfect melody to him— he has half a mind to lean forward and turn the music down in favor of the sound of you. Ass clapping against his thighs, wet squelching from between yours, breathy moans and gasps and keens. He wishes he could isolate every salacious layer of sound— to savor it, ingrain it into his memory to replay over and over.

The beat of the song slows, just before he knows it’ll build up again. He takes the break to wrap an arm around your waist, effectively slowing the motion of your hips. You whine as he forces you to grind your clit against him, and he hums, captivated.

Using his free hand, he twirls his fingers through your hair, wrapping the strands around to get enough hold to pull you forward, the abruptness ripping a gasp from you. Perfect. Twisting his lips up, he tilts his head forward, letting a glob of spit travel past his lips and drip down onto your awaiting tongue as he plants his feet firm on the ground. With all the leverage in the world, he bucks his hips up into you as the beat picks up again, the heavy weight of his thrusts knocking the air from your lungs. 

It gets hard to move when you squeeze around him, ticks him off that you’re slowing down his rhythm. He just wants to give you what you deserve and you’re always holding him back with that fucking grip of yours. At least, he thinks, you’re giving him a chance to readjust his hips, so he can hit that spongey spot inside you until the song closes out, until all that’s left is the sound of your shared panting.

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

Atami Blues (Donald Richie, 1962)

[dark-and-kawaii]

Haarlep is the kind of Incubus that would lay in bed with you listening to old skater punk emo music while flipping through magazines or playing some video games. Like imagine laying on your bellies and one of his wings are laying across your back as you have loud music in the background, his hand on your face trying to cheat at Mario kart or something. I love this image so much ♡